


In Sickness

by Turtles



Category: One Direction
Genre: Facials, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turtles/pseuds/Turtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is sick, Harry takes care of him, and then takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Sickness

Louis wakes up in Copenhagen with a tickle in his throat, and downs cough medicine and tea like it's his last hope. It's useless though because by Berlin it's full on coughing fits and feeling bleary during the shows and worse in the mornings. He wakes up in a big hotel room alone one morning by a knock at the door, he opens it to see room service waiting there with a big cup of tea, honey, and lemon. He croaks out a thank you as the woman sets it down and wanders over to it, smelling the warm tea before taking a sip. 

Harry's gone ahead to Hamburg to do a spot of filming, but when he opens his phone he sees he has a little 'drink your tea .x' waiting for him there. He smiles into his cup and lets the warm drink soothe his throat.

He's still feeling miserable after the show that night as they stumble onto the bus, and he curls up into the bunk still fully dressed, turning down FIFA offers. By the time they're parked outside the next hotel he's already been sleeping for a while, but his pants are off and he's in the shorts he's been favoring while feeling poorly, his shirt is off and he vaguely remembers Harry leaning over him and pulling it over his head saying, "Let's get you into a fresh one, love."

He stumbles out barefoot into the streets with security ushering them into the building, he forgot his bag on the bus but when he turns to go for it Harry's there with a hand on his shoulder, his brown bag, and Louis' slung over his shoulder.

"Thanks, H."

Harry just squeezes his shoulder as they're ushered into the elevator. Louis leans against Harry on their way up, watching how Niall is still keyed up from the show, how Zayn is about to crash. Liam already on the phone with his sister, telling her about the city.

They amble down the hallway, slotting their keys into each of their rooms and saying quiet good nights. Harry is pressing a kiss to the top of Louis' head before following him into their room, Louis curls up in the middle of the bed tiny and sick and feeling gross. He's glad Harry changed him into new clothes, but he can still feel the sweat from the nap and concert sticking to him.

He coughs into his fist and says, "You might want to kip in another room, Haz, you don't want to catch whatever I have."

Harry is nodding and ignoring Louis, dropping his bag in a corner before taking off his clothes and heading into the bathroom. Nice of him to at least give Louis something to watch as he sits on his grave.

Louis blinks and suddenly Harry is nudging his shoulder saying, "Come on, let's have a shower."

Grumbling Louis turns into the sheets and moans, "I can't move."

Harry pulls at his hand, dragging Louis across the sheets that Louis is stubbornly taking with him until he relents and follows Harry into the bathroom. Harry helps him step out of his clothes, pulling his shorts down and letting Louis lean a hand against his shoulder as he moves each foot. Pressing a little kiss against Louis' hip that feels already like too much. His skin oversensitive with sickness.

Harry ushers him into the shower and the lukewarm water feels refreshing against his heated skin. Harry steps in front of Louis directly under the spray, hair coming down against his face, and Louis shuffles until he's pressed close to his back, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

Louis stands there with his chest pressed against Harry as Harry lathers himself, using the bar of soap to wash away the grime from the concert, before he turns in Louis' arms and says, "Your turn."

He washes the slope of Louis' shoulders hands big where he presses against Louis' arms, tracing the heart tattoo carefully, the antlers of the stag, before moving on to his chest.

His hands move in broad soapy circles and he reaches Louis' stomach quickly, where he crouches and presses a smooch, making Louis giggle against his will and Harry smile up at him. Harry lathers his hands with the soap again and swipes his hands across Louis' hips to his ass, and down the back of his thighs.

If Louis was feeling a little less miserable he would be taking advantage of Harry on his knees but right now all he can do is press his thumb against Harry's lips and hum in quiet satisfaction when Harry kisses against his thumb.

Coming back up Harry squeezes Louis' shampoo out to his hands, the honeydew smell spreading through the small shower. Harry gets his hands in Louis' hair, lathering it up as Louis forward against Harry letting him support his weight as he enjoys the spray of the shower and Harry's fingertips rubbing into Louis' scalp. 

"Okay babe, lean back," Harry says, and Louis is tiredly tilting his head back toward the spray. Harry cards his fingers through the short strands letting the water rinse the shampoo out before moving away with a quick, "Wait here."

Louis slumps against the tiles before hissing at the cold against his skin and instead slouching underneath the spray. Harry comes back a second later, towel wrapped around his waist as he reaches a hand in to turn off the shower. He opens the shower curtain and holds his arms out with a huge bath towel in them, which Louis' steps into. Harry closes his arms against Louis and Louis is enveloped in a tight towel hug that helps dry him off. 

When he gets into the room Harry's laid out a fresh pair of boxers for him, but he just collapses onto the bed and whines at him saying, "Harry, dress me."

Harry pecks at his nose and pulls the boxers on Louis, and grabs a fresh white tee to pull on over his head in the cold hotel room. He uses a second towel to dry his hair as Louis scrambles into bed, tucking the blankets high up to his chin. He feels Harry sit on the bed and then a towel is rubbing through his head until his hair is only slightly damp, "Thank you."

Getting up, Harry rummages through his bag until he finds the medicine they picked up for Louis. Grabbing a complimentary cup he runs the tap and fills it with water, before offering both to a sleepy Louis.

Harry slips into bed and Louis curls up behind him, pressing his head in between Harry's shoulderblades, and slinging an arm around him. Harry holds Louis' hand against his chest and says, “Sleep now.”

Louis drifts off as he mumbles, “Really? I thought we could go for a bocce ball match.”

When he wakes up he's still wrapped up in Harry, pressing his morning wood against his hip and Harry's looking at him. In that steady way he has that makes Louis feel like he's naked, like the force of Harry's emotions reflects his, and everyone can see it.

Louis' seen his face in interviews when he looks at Harry. Knows that his affection doesn't escape either, but the way Harry looks at him makes him feel warm and squirm towards him. Makes him feel heavy low in his body.

“Good morning,” Harry quirks, but it's clear he's talking more to Louis' cock than himself with the way he starts sliding down the bed.

“Harry,” Louis rasps out, his throat sore from being dry all night, “You'll get sick.”

Harry shrugs even though his head is disappearing underneath the blankets, “No I won't. And if I do, you'll just have to take care of me. We'll take care of each other.”

Louis wants to protest again, but Harry's mouth is already pressed to the front of his boxers. Tongue coming out and getting the material soppy with spit, before he pulls it down and licks at the head. Tasting the precome that's gathered there.

Louis brings a hand to cover his face as his hips come up, his dick rubbing over Harry's cheek making Harry laugh under the covers.

Louis pictures the head of his cock sliding over Harry's dimple and has to shuck the covers off so he can see Harry's face. He grabs his cock in hand and whispers, “Keep smiling.”

Harry does, although it's not really a feat. Sometimes Harry thinks its instinctual. Like his face doesn't know what to do around Louis other than be happy.

Louis pushes his dick against the dimple there. Watching the pink head of his cock leave little smears of wetness there, thumb brushing over the bruise the smoke machine left against his cheek. He lets go of his cock and Harry takes over again, this time not playing around.

Sucking as he goes down, Harry works up and down Louis' cock as Louis sweats, still sick, into the sheets. He's about to lose it when Harry presses blunt fingers against the sensitive skin below his balls, making him come into Harry's mouth with a small shout.

He's still breathing heavy when Harry knees his way up his body, and Louis opens his mouth to take him in to have Harry press a hand to his forehead and bounce him onto the pillow. Louis pouts at him, but all Harry says is, “I'm not fucking up your throat, literally. Just look pretty for a second.”

Harry's hand is working quick on his thick cock, and Louis' mouth literally salivates from looking at the wet head, “Just a little kiss?”

Harry nods a little desperately bringing his dick closer to Louis' face, and Louis presses a kiss to the head lips smearing with the precome blurting out. He tongues at the head, mouth opening around it and licking up against it, Harry's hand bumping into his lips a little.

Louis slides a hand up to Harry's stomach and presses a little, and soon after that he feels the muscles move as Harry comes against his lips, come getting onto his cheeks as Harry pulls back.

Harry bends down to kiss Louis, his come smearing between their mouths as he licks, hot, into his mouth. Harry gets off the bed and comes back, a damp towel and fresh boxers in hand.

He presses the towel against Louis' face, wiping the come off his face and looking a little contrite until Louis licks a bit off before Harry can reach it. He shimmies the boxers back on Louis and Louis feels spent again, still sick as he coughs and curls up in bed.

Harry pets his fringe off his face, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, before sitting on the edge of the bed. As Louis drifts off into sleep he hears a soft, “Hi, I was wondering if you could send up breakfast and tea to room 412?”


End file.
